


The One Night That Summer

by theselittlethings



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Blow Jobs, Cameo From Joyce Because I Couldn't Resist, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fainting, Fluff and Smut, Grinding, Inexperienced But Eager, Light Bondage, Nancy Thinks She Killed Him With Her Mouth, Oral Sex, POV Nancy Wheeler, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Stream of Consciousness, Takes Place Right Before Season 3, That One Time I Wrote A Stranger Things Fanfic, Vaginal Sex, Woman on Top, awkward fumbling, hands tied, these two are soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 16:33:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19931107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theselittlethings/pseuds/theselittlethings
Summary: Nancy exhales slowly, coming to a stand. She studies his eyes as she unravels the rope in her hands.And gestures to his wrists. "…Really make sure I mean?"Jonathan's throat moves when he swallows. He flinches like her words went straight to his cock. He scoots up to rest his shoulders on the wall. A couple seconds pass before he responds,"And let you have your way with me?"Nancy can't tell what he means. But that's one way to put it."Yeah. L- Let me have my way with you," she echoes.(AND/OR: Nancy and Jonathan take advantage of an empty house, resulting in trusting experimentation and a lot of awkward fumbling.)





	The One Night That Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Love this show so much, love these two so much, and felt compelled to give them a quiet moment together after seeing Season 3. Had a ton of fun writing these soft goofballs' totally different dynamic + if you like Stranger Things, hope you enjoy too 😊 Big big thank you to [lifeofsnark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeofsnark) for betareading this for me and for being so awesome 💕
> 
> P.S. This takes place May/June 1985 and assumes they're both of age. Also assume they've both confirmed the other's clean and Nancy always takes the pill on time. Neither comes up in the text, this is fanfic and not real life.
> 
> P.P.S. Mind the tags. For those unfamiliar with with my works, when I say "explicit" I really mean it.
> 
> Enjoy 💝

Nancy closes the front door behind them carefully even though Joyce's car isn't in the driveway. She lingers in the dark living room, balancing on a wall to take off her heels. Jonathan walks into the kitchen, switches on a light. The house remains mostly cast in shadow.

"I'm so glad today is over," Nancy says, bending to pick up her shoes. She dangles them in one hand by her side, wiggles her toes as she hears a cupboard open and shut.

"We made it," Jonathan replies, raising his voice a bit as he runs the sink. "Two weeks down."

Nancy follows him, crossing her arms as she leans on the doorframe with a sigh. "I still can't believe Tom just… _laughed_ when Bruce called me that."

Jonathan's drinking some water, meets her eyes with the glass to his lips. He sets it down on the counter. "Those guys are dicks."

She looks away to the floor. Shifts her weight on her feet. "I know, just… I guess I thought Tom would — I don't know, say something, or —"

Nancy doesn't finish the thought, cheeks flushing with the memory of what Jonathan told her earlier. When she said all this in the car. And before that at the diner when he let her take the last french fries off his plate.

"Those guys are dicks," Jonathan repeats. "All of 'em."

But part of her didn't want to believe that the person who interviewed and hired her was as bad as the rest of them. Quietly hoped that the editor-in-chief would clear his throat and tell his men to lay off at _some_ point. And today Tom didn't do shit. Slapped Bruce's back and complimented his joke. Nancy could semi-excuse the condescension. The patronizing tones. The obvious glances below her neck — But he let them give her a _nickname._

"Yeah," Nancy agrees, furrowing her brows. "All of them." She joins Jonathan's side, taps along the countertop as she takes a sip of water.

"Hopefully they forget it by Monday," he offers, tilting his head in her periphery.

She bends down, leaning on her elbows. "And if they don't?"

"'Accidentally' spill some coffee in Bruce's lap."

Nancy chuckles, catching Jonathan's quietly mischievous grin. "I wish."

He shrugs and takes another drink. Some seconds of peaceful silence pass between them. They both watch the sky fade into a deeper blue out the small window. A couple stars flicker into view. Her prior expectations feel more & more like cheesy, childish fantasies. Two weeks. Only have to get through so many more before she can look back at this as just another line on her resume. At least that's what she's been telling herself every time she leaves the conference room with roaring laughter in her wake.

Jonathan turns to watch her in profile, like he spots her disappointment softening her features. "Nancy, I'm not gonna tell you to not let it bother you because, yeah, it's gonna bother you and it bothers me too, but…"

He covers her wringing hands with his own, squeezing them lightly. Nancy exhales slowly from her nose. He brushes her skin with his thumbs, brings his mouth close to her ear,

"…Hey, look at me."

She listens, glancing at his lips before meeting his gaze again. His camera is still slung around his neck, perched on the linoleum. The strap flattens half his collar. His breath feels warm when he speaks, his voice low like he's sharing a secret.

"Guys like that are intimidated by driven women like you. That's why they do that."

It sounds nice, even though she doesn't really think it's true. She wishes it were. Nancy shakes her head. "Maybe."

"They know women like you will be calling all the shots someday." He places a hand on her shoulder. "Breaking huge stories for a big city paper while they're still cracking jokes back here in Hawkins."

She smiles, blushing again. Notes the hint of reverence in his gentle tone, the way he studies the slope of her neck. Somehow, even after all the time spent together — he looks at her like he found her in a dream.

It makes the rest feel small and far away, at least right now. She bites inside her cheek. "You really think that?"

"That they're intimidated by —"

"— That I'll be the one calling all the shots some day?"

He brushes down her arm, slides his palm down her back. "Yeah. I do."

Nancy leans into his side as circles her waist. His shirt smells faintly of campfire and dryer sheets. His fingers rustle the hem of her pleated skirt.

"…Thanks," she mumbles.

"I mean it."

"I know."

Jonathan resettles his grip, brightens his tone. "Look, at least we have weekends off, right?" He still seems very… near. "Forget about them tonight. Worry on Monday."

Nancy peeks outside. More stars hang above the treeline. All she can hear are their own even breaths.

"I'll try."

"We can just stay in tonight." Another pause. "If you want."

"Yeah. Maybe."

His hand is warm. Makes her clothes feel too close to her skin. A tension pools in her chest. Nancy wets her lips before she steps away. Jonathan traces the lines of her pleats between his fingers, dropping the fabric and watching her go.

"I'm just tired from this week," Nancy continues. "Two weeks." She picks up her shoes from the floor by the doorway. "Tired of these heels too."

"You look good in them though. In whatever shoes you wear."

She smiles sheepishly and touches her hair. He said the same thing when she cut it short. "You're sweet."

Nancy checks the long hall behind her shoulder. Nightfall blurs the little window at the end. The bedroom doors are all half-closed. No one else is home. She doesn't say anything more, turns to head towards his room. 

Nancy hears Jonathan run the tap again, pad around the kitchen for a few seconds before he follows. She swears she can sense his gaze trail her spine, studying her hips and the way her skirt curves over her ass. The door creaks open. She flinches when he brushes past her to flip on a dim lamp. She drops her shoes by his dresser. Takes off her earrings as she watches him set his water on the nightstand, dip the mattress as he sits on its edge to kick off his loafers.

Almost nothing in his room is put exactly into place. The camera goes on a chair. The socks are tossed onto a little pile of clothes on the floor. Jonathan undoes his button-down shirt to leave it open over his plain white tee. He rests his elbows on his knees, doesn't hide that he's observing her motions closely. Like he's fitting her into the composition of a larger scene.

"Still tired?" he asks.

That tension drops lower. She loosens the blouse tucked into her skirt, fidgets with a string along the hem.

"I guess?"

Nancy's voice raises at the end like she means it innocently. It's been some months together, but they're never truly alone as often as they'd like. With only a handful of opportunities to enjoy the other beyond stolen moments keeping quiet with voices trailing down the hall.

But they can take advantage of their circumstances now. Nancy unclips her bottom button slowly, trying to gauge his reaction. Her fingers creep up to open another.

Jonathan stays still. He meets her eyes intently. "Not too tired for me though, right?"

Everything is hushed like the empty house and dark backyard are holding their breath. Nancy swallows. Keeps going. The third button exposes her skin above her skirt.

She hesitates at the fourth. "…Not too tired for what?"

He shrugs and raises his eyebrows, making an obvious effort to not appear too eager. "What did you think I meant?"

Nancy glares playfully. Removes the rest at the same steady pace. Goosebumps rise on her arms as she slides down her blouse. Her bra is plain & gray with thin padding and an underwire that pushes up her breasts. Her skirt sits high on her waist, concealing her navel and hips.

Jonathan doesn't look away as he shrugs off his collared shirt, hands shaking as he pushes it from the bed. Nancy steps closer, raising her arms to fluff her hair. Her tits perk out prominently. She feels more awkward than seductive, bites her lip before answering,

"I might have some idea?" It sounded better in her head, comes out a little garbled from her mouth.

"— Like what?"

He says it almost too softly for her to hear. A nervous beat crosses his features, cast by yellowed shadows in the half-lit room. A warmth blooms between her thighs, brightens the pink staining her cheeks. The restrained adoration tempering his knowing stare has this way of catching her off-guard still. Her chest is tight when she inhales deeply and turns around to close the door. The lock clicks into place.

Nancy counts as she exhales. Smooths the front of her skirt when she stops a couple inches from his knees, overly aware of how he doesn't break his gaze.

"Y- You want me to show you?" she whispers.

He looks up at her from below, admiring her body and timid words. Even though she isn't sure her straight lines, little tits, and skinny limbs really deserve it. It's both flattering and unnerving, but inspires her to be bolder.

Nancy bends to kiss his ear, lays her palm on his chest. He opens his knees and scoots back on the bed. 

"Something like this?" she murmurs, feathering her lips across his cheek.

His heartbeat picks up. She bunches his loose t-shirt, starts untucking it from his pants. He slides his hands down her back to guide her closer as he answers — 

"Getting warmer…"

— and covers her mouth with his. She grins against him and leans into his embrace, deepening their kiss. Nancy squirms to hike up her pleats, pulling away to skitter onto the mattress and sit across his lap. She parts her thighs to pin his hips with her knees, drops her skirt and conceals their legs.

"W- Warmer now?" she bids, sinking to press her entrance on his pelvis. His crisped pants tent along her stockings and underwear. She rolls to nudge against him and he tugs her close,

"You're getting there —"

They kiss again, rougher and with greater purpose. Jonathan tastes her tongue excitedly, fumbles behind her back to unhook her bra. He slips the latch a few times before using both hands, paws it off to grab her tits. Nancy sneaks beneath his shirt to feel his skin, slightly heated like it is between her legs. He rubs her pebbled nipples, cups her breasts and squeezes, hiding them under his palms.

"Warmer?" she teases, feathering her mouth on his neck.

"Y- Yeah —"

He loses his words, shudders when she rocks more obviously. Nancy spreads her thighs wider to increase the pressure, notices his trousers shift. He leans back to peel off his shirt, watches her drag her nails down his chest. Holds her hips when she reaches his pants to encourage her to move.

Jonathan grips tighter when she listens, scrunching her skirt up as she grinds harder. Bends to graze her shoulder with his teeth, halts her motions to lick and nip her breasts. He stutters over her skin, careful not to leave marks. She inhales sharply, scratching his scalp and mussing his hair. He disconnects and catches her gaze, leaving wet patches behind on her tits.

Nancy presses her bare chest on his, to feel that warmth where they touch. She pushes him down lightly to lie on his back. Her pulse speeds seeing his mouth dropped open as she crawls over his prone body. She stops at his waist, unlatches his belt and yanks it from his pants. Presses her lips to a line when she unbuttons & unzips his fly.

Nancy freezes, meeting his half-lidded eyes. Jonathan sits up slightly, studying her position with his core tense. She doesn't look away as she hikes his trousers down to his knees. His expression darkens when she gathers up her skirt, wiggles to kneel over his lap. The pleats fall to hide their hips. Her palms sneak underneath. She smirks, seeing him react to her rubbing circles over his length.

"Nancy…"

It still makes her heart leap when he says her name that way, like it hurts to keep it in. Dazed with a gentle tone. He's already hard, poking her through his briefs. He comes down to clasp her wrists, to direct them to his cock.

Their ruddied faces match. Neither of them can see what they're doing with their hands, stare into the other and refuse to look away. She wraps his length, shrugs down the soft skin. He knuckles her opening through her stockings, circles up to build friction on her clit.

Both of them try to find a rhythm. She increases her speed, smudges his tip with her thumb. He shivers and licks his teeth. Each of her nimble motions prompts an unconscious response like his nerves are raw. Nancy rolls on his hand, pursing her lips. Easily steers his reactions, even with most of her body hidden. She wonders if he can smell how hot she's getting for him.

Jonathan furrows his brows, tenses his jaw, darts up to locate the zipper on her skirt. He skips around her waist but keeps missing it, curls around the hem to find it with his fingers. She repositions her knees, parts her legs wider, smears the fluid beading from his head along his shaft. He searches more urgently, glares with a certain determination —

The fabric rips as he pries open the clasp. He recoils like he's been burned, stammering when Nancy swats him away from her clothes,

"Shit, I —"

"Mind your hands," she quips without thinking, surprised by the change in her tone.

"S- Sorry, I didn't mean —"

He's genuinely apologetic, mouth still moving when she puts a finger to his lips. "It's — It's okay…"

Jonathan nods and she climbs off him to stand at the edge of the bed. The tear is small, tracks along the zipper, which still comes down easily. The skirt drops to her ankles. He kicks off his pants and briefs to the floor. He flops back onto the mattress, eyes darting up and down her body like he doesn't know where to look first. She tiptoes out of the pooled fabric, glances to the door a couple times to confirm it's locked.

A lump grows in her throat when she spies him jerking off in her periphery. That… clicking sound is loud in her ears. Part of her still gets anxious to see him totally naked, to sense her body being appraised so overtly and sexually. Getting used to seeing a guy like that will take some time, she supposes. But she loves the faces he makes when she exposes herself to him. Slightly dumbstruck and awed just like their first time. She approaches slowly, sits beside him on the edge, keeps her eyes averted from his cock.

Nancy rolls down her stockings. Jonathan grazes her tits with his free hand. Shoves between her thighs to push against the damp spot on her underwear. She pushes him away to take them off. His breaths grow uneven and she pauses a second to regain her bearings. Relaxes her shoulders when he traces his fingers over her hips.

"You're so fucking hot —"

It sounds goofy but she knows he means to be sweet. She likes him longing for her touch, dwelling in the unspoken power she holds over him. Nancy turns to meet his gaze as something stirs beneath her ribs, a quiet and close excitement that statics through her limbs.

She crawls beside him on his bed, straddles his stomach and positions her knees on the blankets tangled underneath them. She scoots down to lie on his bare chest, pressing her skin against his as she coasts up to meet his lips. Jonathan kisses her madly, uses a lot of tongue, grabs her ass when she rocks her hips back to tap his cock. She angles to rub her cunt on his body, spreading her arousal and circling her clit.

He can't stop touching her everywhere, charting her lines beneath his hands like he's committing them to memory — like a part of him wonders if he'll be lucky enough to have her again. Completely pinned, reverent, eager, and ready to be taken however she feels is best — 

_Totally vulnerable to her whims._

Nancy pulls away, rests her palms on his sternum. His heart pounds. His nails dig in. Her mind races trying to find a way to articulate and rationalize what she desires. Her mouth dries as she struggles to speak,

"J- Just stay like that for me…"

He clenches his jaw. Loosens his grip. She pushes down on his chest.

Nancy shivers. "…Mind your hands."

Jonathan nods and drops them to his sides.

She isn't sure what to say next. She blinks. Balances on his shoulder and leans to take a sip of water. He taps on the mattress. Nancy glances away, puts down the glass.

She sees the end of a length of rope on the floor, peeking out behind the nightstand. From when Jonathan emptied his car's trunk a couple days ago.

Her stomach flips when it clicks into place. When she realizes what she wants. To keep him beholden like this even though he can overpower her easily — to use his body for her own.

Nancy wonders if that's weird. A part of her cringes for having the thought at all. But if anyone would understand it'd be him. She knows if Jonathan turns her down at least he won't laugh. And the imagined picture of him staring up at her with gritted teeth is too novel for her to ignore.

She climbs off him again. He watches her but doesn't move. Her hands tremble as she crouches out of view to grab the rope. Her voice does too, trying to explain aloud without sounding obscene,

"Would you — Will you make sure you stay like that for me?"

He shifts his weight on the bed. "S- Sure —"

Nancy exhales slowly, coming to a stand. She studies his eyes as she unravels the rope in her hands.

And gestures to his wrists. "…Really make sure I mean?"

Jonathan's throat moves when he swallows. He flinches like her words went straight to his cock. He scoots up to rest his shoulders on the wall. A couple seconds pass before he responds,

"And let you have your way with me?"

Nancy can't tell what he means. But that's one way to put it.

"Yeah. L- Let me have my way with you," she echoes.

She wraps the rope around one of her palms to distract from the teetering feeling in her knees. He sits up as she returns to the bed, signalling her with a nod.

"Okay…" His face flushes deeply. "However you'll have me."

Nancy doesn't know what she expected, but she hadn't expected that. Fuck, it makes her really hot, his strained assent feeling heavy like a weight on her cunt. She's dizzy sitting down, hollowing her cheeks. He hurries to turn around. Moves his hands behind his back.

Oh shit. This is really happening. This is —

She snaps out of it before she loses her nerve. Makes a loop around his wrists. The rope is fairly new with fibers pricking in some spots. She adjusts how it sits before tightening it in place. She slips two fingers underneath the wraps, coils the rope around itself to cinch it down.

"Is it too —"

"It's fine," he says, squirming in his restraints.

"You'd tell me if —"

"Of course." He grunts and tumbles a bit as he sits up to lean against the wall. "I promise."

Nancy examines his contorted position. Chest swelling out, shoulders pulled back, legs stretching out in front. His hair obscures part of his face. His bitten lips are shiny with spit. His cock is rigid, standing at attention like it winks at her to be touched. She straddles him again, closes her eyes as she plays with her clit. Feels him fidget and hears him curse and lets herself get swept into the desire it ignites within her,

"Fuck — Nancy —"

She's never done anything like this before. Her nub swells with anticipation. Her cunt tightens to have him inside her, but she wants to prolong this exhilaration fluttering in her stomach. To tease his desperation.

She has no idea what's supposed to happen next. Figures she might as well start with her mouth.

Jonathan shudders when she kisses his neck and collarbone, peppers down his sternum and stomach and the creases of skin that v towards his hips. She pumps his length to wipe her slick off her fingers. Darts her tongue over the tip. Bobs down a couple inches and peeks up to lock eyes with him.

His face is stunned, even a little pale — like she's some divine creature who found him here. She licks up and covers her teeth, eases her throat as she takes him in her mouth. She doesn't break his gaze, doesn't want to miss how his features pinch. How he _reacts_ so automatically —

She looks away to change her angle, holds back her hair as she swallows his cock. He tilts his hips, slips against the roof of her mouth. Nancy stalls when her stomach turns a little, when his movements prod her throat. She breathes deeply through her nose, shuts her eyes to go down to his base.

He gasps. Her neck tightens. Her mouth waters and she tries not to gag, expecting to hear her name. He tenses before relaxing with a slump. She churns, can only hold for a second or two longer. Comes up quickly with a wet slip and a heaving sound she can't suppress.

Nancy kneels back. All the air leaves her lungs.

Something is wrong.

His head droops. She can't see his face. His chin lolls towards his chest. His shoulders wobble as he starts to slide down the wall —

Like he's been drained from his body.

…She can't tell if he's breathing.

Everything building inside her freezes to a halt. Nancy struggles to shove him into a seated position back up against the wall. She grabs his chin, shrinking in horror at his closed eyes and slack mouth. Her other hand hurries to find his pulse, exhaling slowly with relief when she senses its steady beat.

She tilts his head. Reels with disbelief. He's unconscious. From her? Or —

Nancy checks the door. Still closed and locked. The sheet covering the window makes the room seem cramped. She taps his arms and kisses his cheeks. Jonathan inhales deeply, shifts his legs. She springs back to get the water as he coughs himself awake.

"I — Fuck, I'm —"

She rushes to talk before he apologizes for anything. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have —"

Nancy brings the glass to his lips, waits for him to take a few drinks. She sets it back on the nightstand and reaches behind Jonathan for the binds.

"I shouldn't have made this so tight." She falls onto his body to confirm he's truly there. "Shouldn't have —"

"No, no way…"

She skitters away, rests her hands on his shoulders. And Jonathan stares back at her like she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Her vision blurs with welling tears.

"Do you want me to stop?" Nancy whispers.

"No." There's no hesitation in his reply. "Don't fucking stop."

He resettles how he sits and regains his bearings, clenching his jaw determinedly. Bounces his hips to roll hers against his cock. He leans to kiss her neck, lopsided with his arms wringing awkwardly.

"Are you — Are you sure?" she asks.

He's getting hard again quickly, nips with his teeth. "Yeah, I'm really sure," he breathes into her skin. "You're just —"

She nudges him towards the wall. He yields immediately, rests his head with that shy crooked smile she adores.

"You're just something else." Jonathan hurries to end on a less vulnerable note, "And it was… really hot outside today."

Nancy smiles back. She can't tell if the lingering warmth circuiting her limbs is from being embarrassed or turned on. And she can't dismiss that tiny sting of joy between her ribs from knowing she has that kind of effect on someone. Anyone.

Especially him. "You'll tell me if —"

"Yes," he says. "I promise."

She nods, reaffirming her grip on his shoulders. Blushes glancing down at his cock, pointing rigid already without her having to do much at all. She angles to coast her entrance along one of his thighs, still damp and sensitive and impatient to feel more. His muscles twitch, the quick pulse catches her clit. He opens her mouth with his tongue fervently when she pounces to taste his.

"Fuck," he groans into her. "I —"

Nancy decides she's held out long enough. Bites his lip as she detaches with a soft pop. She kneels up over his length, fiddles to line him up with her opening. He bumps into her slit, against her borders. One hand slips as she takes a breath and widens her stance. The other snakes down to direct him, smudges off the fluid beading from his tip.

She probably looks silly, too scattered to find her own cunt. But she tries not to think about it. Jonathan doesn't seem to notice or care. 

She blows a lock of hair from her nose and lowers herself onto his cock. Her mouth drops as he strains her open. Jonathan leers at where they meet. She sinks onto him carefully, narrow from the position and soaking heavily. He furrows his brows watching himself disappear inside her, intensely focused on how her pussy accepts his length.

"So fucking tight —" he blurts out.

Nancy guides him deeper, exhaling like it's too much to take. She clenches up to sharpen the stretch. Moans when he shivers in her body. Jonathan presses back on the wall, his shoulders shrugging as his wrists fidget against the ropes. Every tiny flinch heightens the sense of being occupied and split. She sheathes herself slowly, wriggling into each added inch, making a startled noise when her thighs touch his hips.

Nancy shifts her knees, settles around his size. Her eyes widen as he taps towards where she ends. Her cunt feels unfurled and tense, winds to cinch him in. She starts to move and he rocks up in response, grinning when she yelps again. He tilts his chin up to expose his neck as she flattens her tits against his chest. It feels _closer_ rubbing her skin all over his — her nerves flaring where they touch, where she drags her teeth to taste his sweat —

"Holy shit," he murmurs.

And she increases her speed, bobbing with a steady rhythm that tires her thighs & knees. Jonathan bounces into her cunt when she swallows him completely, sighs into her ear,

"I want to touch you so badly —"

Nancy grinds harder, excited by his needy tone — a little uneasy about how hot she gets hearing it. He's totally pliant as she steers him where she likes, fucking his body to find her release. Jonathan's soft ragged sounds ring vividly in his quiet room, heightening how _full_ she feels controlling his cock. Her cunt gets more sloppy as she clenches harshly, as she spots his face shining with exertion. He's gritting his teeth just as she imagined, like he's worried he'll lose it at any moment.

She doesn't know what's come over her, but knows she loves it. Nancy rests her palms on the wall for leverage, rides him roughly and builds quickly, glaring down to see his torso heaving.

"You — You like it when I fuck you like this?" she chokes, wanting to hear his voice again.

"Y- Yeah," he grunts, "I do —"

"You're so fucking good, letting me have you — so fucking good for me —"

It seems strange saying it aloud but Jonathan smacks his head back like it spikes through his veins. The mattress creaks loudly and Nancy imagines the sound echoing through the dark hall into the wallpapered living room. She spies the clock on the nightstand and realizes it's getting late, can't remember when they drove up to the house. They probably don't have a lot of time left, if any at all. But it doesn't really matter. Neither of them are going to last much longer like this.

She parts her legs wider, brings a hand down to knead her clit. Her thighs hurt. Her tits are sticky from his sweat. She squeezes her eyes shut and tightens to adjust his tip. Nancy can tell she's close, slams down to fill herself harshly all at once,

"Oh god, I'm —"

Jonathan gasps as she slithers down his arms to yank the ropes, angles his hips up in time with her moans. The fibers nick her palms, keep her grounded as her mind goes blank. She wraps his body close and leaks down his base, cries out with her mouth trembling against his skin. His hair tickles her forehead, his scent is dense in her nose. Nancy lets go of her inhibitions, writhes inelegantly on his cock, collapses to burrow him as deep as he'll go.

"Nancy, I can't — I'm —"

"Fuck — i- it's —"

Holy shit, she's coming really hard, too gone to finish the thought. Jonathan jerks to attention beneath her, Nancy recoils and holds him in place. The thrill of having him restrained is even better than she expected, her climax intense when attained completely on her own terms. All she can hear are his weary noises, their clapping skin, the bouncing springs, her thumping heartbeat — Everything tenses to a sharp focus, casts the shadows behind her eyelids into a bold relief. Her cunt is messy, glides his length effortlessly, and all of him is hot & sized against and inside her body — _fuck_ she hopes he'll let her do this again —

Before Jonathan said he couldn't, but he does. Nancy's lashes flutter open to watch him grind his jaw, wedge his shoulders, admire the gentle lines of her tiny figure as she enthusiastically works his cock. His mouth shakes as he asks,

"Can I —"

Like he needs her permission. Quiet and desperate, ravaged with longing. Nancy takes a second to relish his words, to polish this memory. She knows he wants to come inside her, tells herself he's earned it.

"Y- Yeah —"

That's all it takes. She hikes down to clasp him deep, tightens as he thrusts into her. He spills heavily, rocks to smear warmly along her walls. His face skews between his lurid noises, rocking his hips like he wants to stay pressed up where she ends. Nancy winds slower feeling his seed pooling with her release, slicking their skin where they meet. She tries not to be bashful of how stupidly wet she is, tugs the ropes to stretch his arms as he shivers once more. She slumps onto his chest, rises and falls with his breaths, wraps her arms to hug him close.

Everything falls to an eerie silence as they listen to one another panting. Nancy adjusts her knees. An animal scurries somewhere outside. The house remains still. Both of them come down gently, reeling from whatever just happened between them. Jonathan clears his throat, bounces inside her when he coughs. She swipes away some locks of hair stuck on his neck and face.

"Nancy, that…"

He doesn't say anything more, closes his eyes and rests his cheek on the wall. She can see how flushed he is in the dim lighting, observes his adam's apple bob as he inhales deeply to try again,

"I — I can't believe you still… after I —" Jonathan shakes his head. "Sorry, that was…"

She hurries to stop him from apologizing, "It's okay —"

"— Mortifying," he finishes, turning back with a wry grin.

Nancy blushes too, feathers her nose on his neck. She keeps seated, lets him get soft inside her to prolong that sense of having him so _near_. With the moment passing away it's hard to ignore the tiny sting of shame she felt when she first spotted the ropes on the floor — the brief fear that she'd scared him off forever, or much worse —

"It's okay, I just got… I thought I did something or something happened or…" Nancy trails off. Glances away to the door before meeting his eyes again. "…I don't know what I thought."

There's a beat before he widens his grin. "That you killed me giving me head?"

Somehow it breaks the tension in her stomach. Nancy sits up and laughs. "I- I don't know! Maybe, I mean…"

Wouldn't be the weirdest thing to happen to her. 

"It doesn't matter," Jonathan says. "Just us here."

Nancy perches off his lap slowly to sense the last threads of friction as he leaves. His dick flops over between them, wilted and glazed from her arousal. She presses her lips to a line as they hold each other's gaze for a few more moments, their bodies relaxing as they realize they're both feeling the same thing: nervous, satisfied, embarrassed, too seen.

But they're alone with one another, with this shared secret between them. Nancy rests her hand on Jonathan's sternum again. She doesn't have to ask if she can trust him. She already knows.

"Did you — like that?" Nancy asks sheepishly, twirling a bit of her hair. "Having me call the shots?"

He smirks. "Yeah. I did."

"I liked it too," she murmurs.

"…I could tell."

Nancy smacks his shoulder playfully. Jonathan chuckles, bends his knees to scoot down the mattress and wiggle his hands. She wipes her forehead and sighs peacefully. Waits a beat before knocking him down to hug him tightly once more.

"You're sweet," she whispers again, balancing up on her hands to see him lying back on the ropes. Kind of reminds her of a turtle on its shell. "That was amazing."

She bends to kiss him —

A distant crunch of tires on gravel withers through the empty room. Headlights streak the wall opposite the covered window. Nancy startles up with a gasp, bouncing the mattress as she clambers off to find her clothes.

"Shit!" She crouches down, throwing aside Jonathan's button-down and her pleated skirt. 

The bed squeaks. "Nancy —"

She jumps to pull on her underwear, darts to the dresser to find her bra. "I know! I saw —"

_"Nancy!"_

She blinks. Jonathan sits with his feet on the floor, still naked twisting his arms with widened eyes.

"Oh — right —"

Nancy joins his side to unwrap the ropes. Her fingers keep slipping as he squirms to shrug them off.

"Are you —"

"I'm trying!" she insists, undoing the first knot.

The front door hits the wall in the foyer when it opens. Familiar footsteps rustle in the house. Some unseen objects drop on the kitchen table. Jonathan's expression drains as he gapes at his bedroom door, nodding as Nancy gestures to the lock slid into place.

"Jonathan?" Joyce's voice travels down the hall faster than she does. "I saw your car in the driveway —"

Nancy buries her face in Jonathan's arm when Joyce knocks. His limbs tense as he cringes. 

"— A little early for you to be…"

She goes silent. Nancy can picture her expression when she makes a soft "oh," slowly backing away.

"I'll just be in —" Joyce raises her voice uneasily. "I'll just be in the living room. Watching TV." She calls back to the door as she walks away. "I really hope you remember what we talked —"

Oh god. Nancy smiles against Jonathan's skin, unable to look at the door as he shouts to make her leave,

"Yeah, Mom, stop, just —"

"In the living room!" Joyce repeats in a singsongy sort of tone, making it obvious she has no desire to linger either.

Nancy stifles a giggle, peeks up at Jonathan's bright red face. Joyce strides away to the kitchen, runs the tap and opens the refrigerator. Nancy's hands are still shaking as she unloops the last knot, yanks down the mess of ropes. He stretches his arms back, takes a long deep breath, and examines his wrists in his lap. Pink patches bloom in some spots. Nancy rubs one with her thumb.

She startles away as Joyce's footsteps return to knock on the door again.

"Nancy?" There's a beat. "Was Will at your house when you left?"

Nancy hesitates and shifts her weight. Jonathan nods. Her answer comes out more like a squeak. "Um… yeah, he's spending the night." Or at least that's what her mother said when she called home from the diner before. "Has his bike."

"Okay!" The forced note in Joyce's bright tone makes Nancy want to fall through the floor. "Well, I'll just be…"

Her steps fade away once more. Another cabinet closes. Muffled voices static from the den. Nancy covers her face, the mattress moves as Jonathan gets up. He checks over the carpet, stumbles to pull on his briefs and trousers.

Nancy peeks up to watch him flop on the futon and study her mostly-bare form from across the room. Nancy crawls up the bed to sip the water on the nightstand, bashful to see that _look_ in his eyes again — that one she loves, like he's the luckiest guy in the world.

But she's feeling pretty lucky too. He checks the window before turning back with a boyish smile that's disarming in its honesty.

"Did you want to do anything special tomorrow?"

She grins, thinking of a summer of weekends to come. Monday really does seem far away. "…Maybe."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading 🙂 Fingers crossed for these two in Season 4 💔 This is my only work for Stranger Things, but may return if inspiration strikes again someday 💌 Find me on my fandom/fanfic Twitter, where I mostly obsess about the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy: [@theselittlefics](http://www.twitter.com/theselittlefics)
> 
> Thank you again!


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